Forkhouse 5: 4 days left
All this HardFork is no use.
The Bear-Man grinned lecherously at me as I entered his shadowy cave of a shop.
I beg your pardon?
I said in my sophisticated voice which is the one that sounds as if I have never had a wet fart at the family Christmas Dinner.
Truth be told, I had not expected the HardFork to have such far reaching effects as for bearded normies to be talking about it in beer shops.
Aye, I mean who actually wants it?
He looked at me with a hint of accusation as if he thought I were one of the nefarious whales controlling the world from behind the scenes. Perhaps he worried I would shadowban him?
Well, lots of people seem to be in favour of it?
I said with a tinge of uncertainty
Said the Bear-Man with a grim satisfaction, folding his beefy trunk-like arms across his chest.
Well, it's not till Tuesday at least. I suppose we can just wait and see.
The Bear-Man looked perplexed as if he had woken up on a boat with an Abyssinian Sand Terrier.
Don't matter what day it is, no day is a good day for HardFork.
He grunted in his obtusely thick accent.
Yeah, I suppose.
I found myself nodding in agreement.
We should try to be optimistic though, at least until we see the changes first hand.
I said brightly.
Grumbled the Bear-Man, his brows folding down like an abstract form of hairy Origami.
The changes... You know, from the HardFork?
I said politely as if he weren't a big buffoon.
What the fuck's a Hard Fork?
What we were talking about, you know, before?
I backed up slightly as he flailed his brutish arms to the sides in confusion.
My hand reached out and grabbed a bottle from a nearby shelf to use as a weapon. It wouldn't be the first time I had sought to defend myself in here although normally it was from the terror of errant penises.
I said HARD WORK?
He said with a profound bafflement.
Oh, hard work. Right. Ahem. Yes, it's an awful thing.
I put the bottle on the counter for him to ring up on the till and tried to pretend that the last five minutes hadn't just happened.